


Of Home And Family

by polyamory



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe, Christmas, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Multi, Oblivious Derek, Rebuilt Hale House, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polyamory/pseuds/polyamory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek works as a gift-wrapper at the Beacon Hills supermarket and has more emotional baggage than he could ever think to carry, his family is dead, his trust misplaced and his bigger sister the only person in the world he trusts anymore. So when there's this ridiculous guy that keeps turning up at his work, chatting with him and twitching like he just can't stop, Derek doesn't know how to recognize his emotions or even deal with them until they're hitting him in the face with a ten feet pole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Home And Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [otter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otter/gifts).



> This is for agentotter as a secret santa gift, so it's set in Christmas time. I really really hope you like this!  
> Thanks, as always, to my beta Tiff who I kept stressing over this fic. I still love you!

Derek doesn't like Christmas.

It's not that he hates it per se, it was just that he had no one to spend the holidays with. Laura is his only family left and while he really loves her, adores her begrudgingly and looks up to her, she also reminds him of his mother and Cora. She reminds him of his family, his home and of how Christmas used to be, how Uncle Peter used to come over for Thanksgiving with his wife and children and the grown-ups would withdraw into the kitchen and leave them, the kids, to play together.

Christmas is a time for family and love, but Derek doesn't have a family anymore and he's way too broken to love.

 

At the start of November Derek's boss calls him up to his office. Derek's well aware he's not the best at dealing with customers, but he really can't afford to lose his job again.

“Derek, do you like your job?” his boss, who everyone calls the Sheriff for whatever reason, asks from where he's leaning against the desk.

“Um, yes.” Derek says, not really sure what to say.

“You're one of our bag boys, aren't you?” the Sheriff asks with a smile.

“Yes, sir.” Derek replies, although he's pretty sure the Sheriff knows that if he called him here.

“Well, not any more, Derek.”

He feels a moment of cold dread rush over him, thinking he's gonna have to go home and tell Laura he lost his job, until he sees the grin spreading on the Sheriff's face.

“Scared you for a moment there, didn't I?” he laughs, “You're being transferred to the gift-wrappers for Christmas season.”

 

The next morning Derek takes up position behind a table at the gift-wrapping counter. Behind him there are shelves full of wrapping paper and gift ribbons. He's working the stand with Boyd, who he's only seen a few times in the break room. Boyd keeps to himself most of the time, just like Derek.

The green polyester shirt Derek has to wear itches and is uncomfortably tight, but soon he can't pay much mind to how uncomfortable he is – or how much he hates Christmas – because apparently people already start buying presents in November and if that isn't fucked up then he doesn't know what is.

 

* * *

 

He's been wrapping gifts for a bit over a week, and he's actually quite good at it by this point, when a guy comes up to him with a whole basket full of things that all apparently need to be wrapped. And Derek really wants to act like he's busy, rearranging the shelves or something, but Boyd is on his break and there's no one there to serve the guy.

Derek gives him his best 'eyebrows of doom' look as the guy sets his shopping down on the table. The guy is maybe a bit younger than Derek, with short brown hair and he can tell the guy's a talker from the looks of him, his hands jerking in aborted movements and his face constantly switching between what feels like about five thousand emotions in a second.

"Hey there!" the guy says cheerily and Derek sees a Christmas sweater peek out underneath his jacket, which, _seriously?_

Derek starts unloading the stuff and neatly laying them out on the table next to each other, then he hands the basket back to the customer. There's silence for two long minutes while Derek concentrates on wrapping up a perfume gift set until the guy apparently can't take it anymore and Derek just _knew_ he was a talker.

"I'm Stiles, hey." he says, shifting so he's in Derek's field of vision even when he's bent over the table perfecting the curl of the ribbons on the gift. "You work here for long?" Stiles continues even though Derek has given no sign that he's interested in striking up a conversation. "Cause I swear I didn't see you around here last year."

"I usually bag groceries." Derek replies reluctantly, hoping that this is it and he can finish his job in peace.

No such luck, apparently.

Stiles keeps chatting on and Derek pays enough attention to grunt and 'hmm' at the right times.

 

* * *

 

Two days later Stiles comes in again and Derek already spots him from afar. There's not many people in town who walk that uncoordinated, sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor of the supermarket. This time though Boyd is there too and Derek awaits Stiles to go to Boyd because that's what people tend to do, only going to him when Boyd's on break or already taken. He doesn't even know why they're scared of him, because he looks absolutely fucking ridiculous in this shirt.

Stiles waves a hand in front of his eyes and snaps his fingers a few times before Derek's vision focuses on him and he dumps the DVDs he's bought onto Derek's table.

"Hi," he says "could you wrap these up for me?"

"Sure," Derek says, biting his tongue to keep the 'It's my job' in, that's trying to escape past his lips.

"You know, you look less grumpy today." Stiles says casually, leaning one hip against the table and Derek looks up from Star Trek: Into Darkness just to throw Stiles a disbelieving look. "Or maybe that's just the way your face is." he adds waving a hand in front of Derek, "But who am I to judge."

When in response Derek just lifts an eyebrow Stiles takes an energy drink out of his bag and pops the cap.

"Are you sure you should be drinking that?" Derek asks with a smirk.

"As if I haven't heard that joke a hundred times before," here he squints at Derek's name tag, "Derek. Be a little more original." Stiles throws him an unimpressed look and Derek marvels at how fucking blunt that guy is.

He somehow likes it though. All the friendly small talk makes him sick and Stiles is sarcastic in a way that matches Derek's own level of sarcasm.

"Thank you." Stiles says when Derek wraps the last DVD up and he throws his drink into the trash can next to Derek's workplace.

 

* * *

 

Stiles becomes somewhat of a constant in Derek's life after that. He turns up a lot, with no particular scheme to his shopping tours, and always takes a few extra minutes to chat with Derek. Mostly about unimportant things, the weather, why the store's out of raspberry pop tarts yet again (“Because you bought about fifty packs yesterday?!” is Derek's incredulous answer to that.), but Derek somehow manages to find out a few things about Stiles. The guy loves raspberry pop tarts, but hates raspberry ice cream. Twilight is actually a pretty good book and the original Star Wars will always be the better one (Derek can wholeheartedly agree with that one).

The fifth time Stiles comes up to him, dumping an armful of presents on his table, Derek finally asks the question that's been bothering him for some time.

"Who are you giving that many gifts to?" he looks up and sees Stiles jerking his head like Derek just pulled him out of some deep thoughts.

"Huh?" he manages, his hazel eyes clouded over, where they're normally of such piercing intensity.

"Who are you giving that many gifts to?" Derek repeats.

"Well, sourface, I have a lot of friends. You know, and you might not believe that, but I'm actually pretty popular at college." Stiles says and then mumbles something else that Derek can't quite catch.

"Sorry, didn't catch that." he leans a little towards the other man.

"I have a lot of internet friends, too." Stiles mumbles, looking down at the table and Derek notices the tips of his ears turning read as he blushes.

When Derek doesn't say anything Stiles looks up.

"Aren't you going to call me a geek or something?" he asks dubiously.

"Why should I?" Derek asks back, because he genuinely has no idea what Stiles is going at. "What does it matter to me where you meet your friends?"

Stiles cracks a smile at that and Derek feels a smile creep up on his own face. The way Stiles face changes when he smiles genuinely, not smirking or grinning, is somewhat– astonishing. His nose crunches up in a way Derek usually associates with rabbits and his eyes get an almost honey-like shine to them.

"Oh my god!" Stiles very close to coos "He can smile!"

He claps his hands and that just makes Derek smile even more because he looks like a retarded seal.

When Derek finishes wrapping Stiles shopping, which is almost only art supplies today, Stiles cracks a smile and gives him a wave and a quick "See you!" before hurrying off towards the parking lot.

 

After his shift ends and he can finally peel out of that disgusting shirt (He really can't stress that point enough, okay?) Boyd comes up next to him in the locker room where all employees are free to keep their jackets and bags during work. Derek closes his locker and pulls on his leather jacket while Boyd watches him, leaning against his own locker.

"So, what's up with you and that Stiles kid?" he asks and Derek head snaps up so fast his neck cracks.

"What?"

"I'm right next to you all day, Derek." Boyd says, folding his arms and Derek feels a little as if he's being accused of a crime. "I see him staring at you all the while you wrap his stuff, ogling your chest, practically drooling all over your hands. And maybe you can't see it, but every person in their right mind can see how much he digs you."

With those words Boyd pushes himself off and strides off, leaving Derek to get his brain back online by himself. And just– _what the fuck?_

 

* * *

 

Derek doesn't see Stiles again for six days, which is longer than he's ever gone before without buying some kind of present since November started. It makes Derek realize how much he's integrated the guy into his life, watching TV more actively to pick up a joke that'll make Stiles laugh, wearing that Henley more often that made Stiles blush tomato red. It also gives Derek a lot of time to think about Stiles even more, although he still has a lot of wrapping to do. He actually likes this job, something he would never admit out loud, not even to Laura (especially not to Laura), and he's gotten even better with time and practice.

Men are bad at wrapping presents? Talk about prejudices.

Anyway, it's better than some old lady telling him fifty times not to break her eggs and Derek really enjoys it, finds it calming even. His hands go through the motions of wrapping teddy bears, DVDs and socks automatically, which, again, leaves him _so_ much room to think.

Which he effectively fills by thinking Boyd's little speech through until the words are warped beyond all meaning. He also thinks about Stiles, most of the time actually, and thinks about the possibility of Boyd being right and what kind of consequences that would have, if it had any consequences at all.

And with every day that passes a feeling grows in Derek's chest and he comes to the conclusion that, yes, it would have consequences. He just doesn't know what the fuck to make of all this.

He thinks about Stiles hands that never stop moving and how he bounces when he walks which just looks ridiculous, honestly, and makes him look like an overgrown fifth grader, thinks about Stiles babbling while Derek is wrapping the item of the week, words tumbling out of that pink mouth of his. He thinks of Stiles mouth a little more than necessary, admittedly, about the way Derek will catch Stiles sometimes, gaze unfocused and lips slightly parted, how he wets his lips whenever he's in the middle of a rant and how his lips become all wet and shiny with spit. It makes Derek's mind go places.

He'd really like to say that's just placebo, that now he thinks he's thinking about Stiles in _a way,_ he _is_ actually thinking about him in said way, but it would be a lie.

Okay, so he may ~~or may not~~ have a crush on Stiles. And he may have had that crush for a little while now, Derek realizes belatedly.

He reruns all the conversations they had in his head, searching for some kind of hint, anything that should've given him a clue.

The thing is just, Derek's never been good with reading into other people's behavior. He isn't good with people _in general_.

 

* * *

 

When Stiles finally comes around again it's a Tuesday and Derek is just turning away because technically his shift ended three minutes ago. But his eyes catch on the person bouncing down the aisle and there is only one person in the world, he's quite sure of that, who looks like a bouncy ball when they walk.

For a moment he's caught in an inner fight because Laura really wanted his help with building up her new book shelf, but the decision is made for him when Stiles bounces even more excitedly and waves at him.

"Derek!" he calls, "Hey, Derek."

Derek lets a smile break through his scowl as he gives the tiniest wave in response. "Haven't seen you in a long time." he says when Stiles reaches him, "What happened? You ran out of friends to buy gifts for?"

When Stiles outright beams at him in response a little voice in his head perks up that sounds disturbingly like Boyd. _Every person in their right mind can see it._

And for a moment Derek almost lets himself believe it, touches the idea with a ten feet pole and pokes it to see if it'll bite off his leg.

Which it does, of course.

The bite comes around in the form of a young woman turning the corner, pushing a shopping cart in front of her. She spots Stiles and throws him and exasperated look and an annoyed "There you are."

She's beautiful, Derek will give her that.

She's got long red hair that falls down her back in elegant waves and the kind of perfect skin Derek thought only existed in magazines.

He hates her.

The mystery woman pushes the cart up next to Stiles and starts putting what Derek assumes are presents on the table in front of him.

"Which of these is for me again?" Stiles asks her, eying the items as Derek grabs the first one, a book, to get to wrapping it.

He tries to concentrate intently and solely on wrapping the gift, but can't help listening in on their conversation.

The red headed woman (or girl?) scoffs.

"And who said I'm getting you something for Christmas?" she snarks.

"Hey, I'm getting you something, too." Stiles sounds affronted when he replies but as Derek looks up from his work he sees the smile on Stiles face and the mildly amused look on the redhead's face that tells him they're quite familiar with each other. The great green monster in his stomach gives a mighty roar.

They continue their banter while Derek wraps present after present and with every laugh from Stiles and every smirk from his companion the bitter taste in Derek's mouth grows more prominent. It tastes a lot like jealousy which is a thought he's not even gonna think about thinking.

And fuck– when exactly did he start having a thing for Stiles? A long time ago, apparently.

He doesn't even know the guy's last name, or how old he is. For all Derek knows he looks like he's still in his mid-teens, although he remembers Stiles once mentioned college.

Derek is so absorbed in his own thoughts that he only realizes Stiles and the woman are gone when an old lady demands his attention to wrap toys for her grandchildren.

Derek sets to work and tries to forget about this whole day.

 

He's still in a fool mood when he comes home. He trudges through the front door and kicks his boots off when he hears laughter coming from the kitchen.

Great, Laura has friends over.

He tries to sneak past the entrance to the kitchen, but because his older sister is at least one quarter ninja and one quarter sadist, she sees/hears/whatever Derek trying to get up to the safety of his room. And promptly calls out to him.

He's standing frozen in the doorway as the heads of the gusts snap around, leaving him no other choice than to enter and join them.

Erica, who works in the make-up section (and is Derek's friend, too, according to herself), and Boyd, because apparently they're exclusive now (who knew?!), are sitting at the kitchen isle with Laura across from them.

"Hey Der," Laura calls and Derek scowls, he does not need to be called stupid nicknames by his older sister in front of Boyd and Erica who will take any chance they get to make fun of him. Erica has that smile on her face, she's practically gloating, damn it, that tells him she's soaking all of this in. To use it as blackmailing material, probably.

"I made your favorite meal." Laura continues as if she hasn't just brought the impending apocalypse over him (So what if he's maybe being a little over dramatic?).

"Hey Derek," Erica waves, which, okay. He has to admit she isn't actually half bad, most of the time. Threatening violence and generally emitting waves of biting sarcasm that make people stay at distance.Derek likes that. Paired with her stunning looks and her extra extravagant, a little over the top, style, she could make for a warrior princess in any of those post-apocalyptic action movies in the theaters right now.

Boyd gives him a solemn nod and Derek is upon sight reminded of their last conversation and thereby of today's events. Which reminds him of his actual plans for the rest of the day, i. e. burying himself under his blankets in hopes of suffocating.

"What's up, little brother? You look like you're planning murder again." Laura jokes.

Derek quietly mourns the downfall of his fantastic plans.

"Does he ever look any different?" Erica asks, whipping her head around, her blonde hair flying wildly.

"Not significantly." Laura manages before breaking out into laughter.

Derek crosses the room to sit down next to his sister, after standing in the doorway for what feels like six ages.

 

Laura and Erica dominate the conversation while Laura finishes up the meal and only call upon Derek and Boyd occasionally when they can't make their mind up on something (like whether Ryan Gosling or Ryan Reynolds has a nicer ass, which is a disturbing question that Derek never wanted to hear coming out of his sister's mouth).

It's only when they're all sitting around the heavy dining table that Laura turns to him, asking about his day, of all things.

Derek pushes some green beans around his plate.

"'T was alright." he mutters, not really keen to discuss the matter in front of Erica and Boyd, or at all for that matter.

He looks up into the tense silence to find Laura leveling him with an inquisitive stare.

_Later_ , he tries to communicate with his eyes and she seemingly gets it because she turns away and strikes up a conversation with Boyd.

Erica leans towards him and nudges him lightly with her elbow.

"Hey smiley face, it'll be okay." she whispers, surprisingly gentle. And this right there, is the other Erica, because hidden under all the snark and the bared teeth, is a kind and caring person. He looks up into her face, her eyes wide with honesty and understanding (She looks a bit like a deer, he thinks). "Just– whatever it is that's giving you a rough day, it'll be better." She smiles, a small little smile that flutters right into Derek's heart.

"Thanks," he says, his throat suddenly uncomfortably tight.

Erica turns back to her plate again and engages in questioning (and torturing) Boyd.

 

When the door at last closes behind Erica and Boyd it's already well into the evening. The two of them had insisted on helping with doing the dishes and then, as a thanks, Laura had invited them to stay for a last glass of wine which ended up with everyone huddled together on the couch, watching an old episode of Sex And The City on TV.

Derek slumps against the wall, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"So, will you finally talk about what's been bothering you today?" Laura asks, stepping in front of him, but her face is soft and she takes Derek's hands in his to lead him back to the living room.

"It's not really that important." Derek shrugs.

"It does seem to be though."

"It's just– work, you know." he waves his hands in an aborted motion. Derek can see the question Laura's not asking clear as day in her eyes when she leans towards him. He keeps talking, answering it, so she doesn't have to try to come up with a way to nicely ask 'Are you gonna lose your job again?' "It's got nothing to do with my boss. The Sheriff is alright, actually. There's just this one costumer and– I really don't wanna talk about this, okay?!"

Laura pulls back at his sudden outburst and he instantly feels bad. None of this is even remotely her fault and he shouldn't get mad at her for caring. It's just so hard to explain when there isn't really anything to explain or talk about in the first place.

"I'm just gonna go to bed. Long day tomorrow." Derek finally says, not looking up at his sister.

He's almost out of the room when he hears Laura's voice behind him once more.

"Good night, Derek."

"Night, Laura." he replies and disappears up the stairs.

 

Derek lies awake for a long time that night, staring at the ceiling in the dark. He tries to figure out what it is that's been happening between him and Stiles in the past month, or if there had been anything happening at all.

He doesn't really have much to compare the situation to, his only other romantic encounter being back in his high school days.

It had been very different then. Kate hadn't beat around the bush with her intentions, throwing him flirtatious smiles and passing him notes in class, openly trying to seduce him. Stiles had never outright flirted with him (as far as Derek could tell, which was about as far as he could see right now), he'd joked, teased and bought tons of presents all the while.

That train of thought leaves Derek as confused as before, so he considers the success _nul_ and turns his face into the pillow, welcoming sleep.

 

Due to lack of sleep Derek is in a bad mood from the moment he is forced to leave his warm, cozy bed the next morning.

This does not change all morning and he scares away a group of girl's scouts that want to get their cookie tins wrapped. His colleagues avoid him in the break room and only Boyd dares to sit at the same table as Derek and his impressive frown. He's wise enough not to talk to him though.

His day gets slightly better during the afternoon shift, because not only do they get a refill on his favorite wrapping paper (and yes, he's allowed to be happy about that, shut up) but Stiles also comes around. Alone.

Derek starts wrapping the things Stiles hands him in silence, and if he were looking at them he'd probably be wondering why the hell Stiles needs him to wrap shower gel and lotion, but Derek's got his gaze fixed intently on Stiles. Stiles and his stupid, long lashes, on perfect view as he looks down at his sneakers. Stiles and his stupid, freaking moles, Derek can trace them with his eyes, has memorized the pattern by now, wants to trace them with his fingertips, his tongue, his– bad thoughts, Derek, bad thoughts. Stiles and his dumb, pointy nose that makes him look like a hyperactive, fluffy bunny. Stiles and his long slim fingers, they're gonna be the death of him. Death through hands, yes. He's growing kind of mad, why does Stiles have to be that– _Stiles_ all the time?! Derek actively realizes he's been staring when Stiles' eyes meet his.

"Something wrong?" Stiles asks, hazel eyes capturing Derek's and holding them in place, when he notices Derek's dark look (well, darker than usual at least).

Derek shakes his head and turns around to busy himself with putting away the wrapping paper.

When he turns around again Stiles has grabbed his things and is nowhere in sight.

Derek sighs.

 

The next day is Thanksgiving and Derek takes the Friday off because he can totally do without being trampled down by angry hoards of customers this year. Not many people are gonna have the patience to get their presents actually wrapped today, anyway. They're all intent on grabbing the cheapest things the fastest.

It's just him and Laura for Thanksgiving and they spend the day together (after sleeping in, of course). They repaint the staircase and then, in the afternoon prepare dinner together, although it's a rather modest meal.

"What are you thankful for this year?" Laura asks him when they both sit at the table.

Derek considers the question for a moment, looking out at his plate and then looks back up at her.

"For you." he replies, "For having you. Thank you, Laura."

"We're family, Derek." she replies, smiling at him.

"Family," he repeats and the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I love you, little brother." Laura says, reaching out and squeezing his hand across the table.

"I love you too, Laura."

They fall asleep on the couch that night, Derek leaning against Laura, his head on her shoulder, while Grease plays on the TV.

On Friday Laura and Derek go to the cemetery to visit their parent's graves.

They stand side by side as the first snowflakes of the year fall around them. Laura kneels in front of her mother's grave and gently puts down the lilies she bought.

Derek watches her, tears blurring his vision, but he can't do anything than stand there and stare down at the two stones.

The golden letters on the onyx surface suddenly don't make sense anymore. How can this be the only thing that's left of his parents in this world?

It's not fair, Derek thinks as a choked sob escapes through his clenched teeth.

Laura is crying silently next to him, heaving sobs shaking her small frame. The tears are running down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and onto her jacket, but her jaw is clenched tight, a mirror of Derek's own expression. He wraps his arms around her and she latches onto him, holding on like a drowning man and it's all Derek can do not to crumble completely.

They stand there like this for a long time, just holding onto each other.

They don't talk when they finally pull themselves together again, wipe away their tears and return to the house that reminds them both of the family they have lost.

But they still have each other, Derek reminds himself.

 

* * *

 

"Hey," Derek hears a familiar voice behind him. He turns around, towards the customer and spots Stiles there.

"Hey," he replies, aiming for casual and missing by a few hundred miles.

"Did you have a good holiday?" Stiles asks, his hands twitching at his sides, like he doesn't know what to do with them. He rubs his neck and scratches a hand over his scalp.

"Yes," Derek says because he doesn't have the faintest idea how to word the truth. "How was yours?"

"Oh, it was good." Stiles says, visibly relaxing now, "Just my dad and me, nothing big. Tried to make him eat tofu turkey, but he wouldn't have it. It was a holiday after all, so I suppose one is okay." He huffs out a short laugh at the end. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Can you wrap that up for me?" He holds out a thick book. Derek glances at the cover. It's something about computers and codes, he probably wouldn't understand a word.

"Sure," he says, taking the book from Stiles. "Your girlfriend not with you today?" he adds on a whim.

"Wh-what?!" Stiles sputters, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, eyes wide.

"The redhead." Derek explains, "She was with you a few days–"

"Lydia?" Stiles interrupts, disbelieving. "Lydia, my girlfriend? Man, don't let her hear you said that." he snorts.

Derek raises an eyebrow in question.

"I had a massive crush on her in high school, but I'm way" (he drags that word out) "over that. We're friends, we work together. And she's engaged." Stiles explains.

"Oh," is all Derek can say to that. "I didn't know that."

At that Stiles bursts out laughing, a reaction his response totally didn't warrant, as he might add. Derek scowls.

"Why are you laughing?" he says, trying not to sound like a grumpy teenager (and failing). The thing is, Stiles looks _amazing_ when he laughs. Really. It's unfair.

"You look like a deer in the headlights, man." Stiles gasps out in between laughter. "A very muscly, very grumpy and scowling deer, but still a deer. Bambi."

Not funny, Derek thinks and tells Stiles just that.

"Just a little bit, you'll have to admit that." Stiles is still giggling, he's fucking _giggling_. That should not make him look so appealing to Derek (especially as Stiles is laughing about him), but the guy is practically _glowing_.

"Bye, Stiles." Derek says forcefully but not unfriendly with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

"Bye bye, Derek!" Stiles calls out and Derek watches him skip away. _That guy!_

From the work place next to him Boyd watches the whole scene and when Derek catches his gaze he raises an eyebrow at Derek.

_What_ , Derek shrugs.

Boyd's eyebrow goes up a notch in an expression that could either mean _You're a fucking idiot!_ or _When, if ever, are you planning to act on the awkward boners you have for our customer?_ (or possibly both).

Derek gives him a look, _I have no idea what you mean._

Boyd's other eyebrow follows the first one, but he turns away with a sigh.

The man knows when to pick his battles.

 

* * *

 

Beacon Hills is a small town. In a small town like this, everyone knows everyone.

Naturally people talk.

(Also the whole town is out on the mission to ruin Derek's life.)

Derek makes that painful discovery three days later, when Stiles comes up to him, notably without any shopping, and takes a deep breath as if to stall himself for something unpleasant.

"Ok, so the thing is Boyd told Erica, who told Isaac, who told Scott, who told Allison, who told Lydia, who told Jackson, who mocked me about it, that I should ask you whether you're ever planning on asking me out or not." Stiles says in a rush. For a moment Derek is, weirdly enough, reminded of middle school. (Maybe Stiles is gonna hand him a note saying 'Do you like me? [ ] yes [ ] no [ ] maybe Check one of the above.')

Stiles shuts his mouth with an audible click. His eyes are wandering around the room, restlessly and his hands jerk in aborted movements. Derek can see a blush creeping up his neck. Stiles blushes really easily, another thing Derek learned about him.

"Are– are you going to say anything at all to that?" he says, there might be a slightly panicky edge to his voice.

"I–" Derek starts, but he can't find any words in his heads. He gapes like a fish out of water for a moment, before snapping his mouth shut.

"I'm sorry. This was a bad idea." Stiles blurts out, backing away from Derek. "Why do I ever listen to these idiots?" He shakes his head slowly.

Finally Derek snaps out of his stupor. Maybe this is the only chance he'll get.

"Wait, Stiles!" Derek calls out, but Stiles shakes his head and waves him away.

"It's alright. Forget I ever said anything." With these words he turns around and leaves.

 

Derek promises himself to talk to Stiles the next day, but Stiles doesn't show up. He also doesn't come by the day after that, or the day after that.

He doesn't know what to do and he realizes how little he really knows about Stiles. He's got no idea where to look for him, or what to say when he finds him.

Without his notice, Derek is pulled into a downwards spiral. Only now that he doesn't have it anymore, he realizes how much he looked forward to seeing Stiles. To their little talks, even though they never talked about anything fundamental or important.

 

It's Laura who finally makes him snap out of it.

Usually Derek just drives right home after work, he doesn't go out at all except to go to work and grocery shopping and he can combine these two activities seeing as he works at a supermarket and gets a discount.

"Hey Der," Laura calls him in his lunch break. "Could you pick something up for me after work?"

"Mmh," Derek grumbles around the bite of sandwich in his mouth.

"That would be great. A tall Latte from Argent's, please. You're a sweetheart. Okay, I'll see you. Bye!"

Before he can react or respond in any way Laura has hung up and he's only listening to the static on the line.

 

This is how Derek finds himself entering Argent's, the new coffee shop on Main Street, approximately two weeks after he last saw Stiles.

The shop is small and cozy, decorated in earthy colors with warm sunlight streaming in through the glass front. Derek walks up to the counter and the barista, a young girl with brown, curly hair gives him a warm smile. Derek takes the time to read her name tag which identifies her as Allison. He thinks he heard that name before, somewhere.

"Hey!" Allison says and her smile brightens. "What can I get you?"

"A tall Latte, please."

Derek watches as Allison prepares the drink, swirling around between the various machines with astonishing grace.

"There you go." She says, placing a plastic cup in front of him and wiping her hands on a towel tucked into her belt.

"Thanks" Derek says. He's turning around, ready to leave and finally go home, when he almost crashes into a young man standing behind him, wiping one of the tables.

Derek is already apologizing when the man turns around and all the air leaves his lungs in one big swoosh.

"Stiles," is all he can say.

And now Stiles is the one looking like a deer in the headlights.

He turns away, quickly picking up his tray and making for a door at the back of the shop, marked 'personnel only'.

Derek catches his arm before he can escape, though.

"Stiles, just let me talk." he says (pleads).

"There's not much for you to say, Derek. God, I made a complete idiot out of myself. Again." He shakes his head in disbelief.

"I didn't even know you–" he doesn't know how to say it.

"You didn't know I like you?" Stiles asks and Derek can see his mood tip from frustrated to irritated. "How could I have made that any more clear?" he hisses and Derek is momentarily taken aback by that outburst.

"I came there almost every day to see you. I bought about a hundred presents just to have a reason to talk to you. Not that it's a big loss," he adds, somewhat considering, "it's my Dad's company after all, but that's not the point, Derek" Stiles snaps his eyes back to Derek's. "I had you wrap my shampoo. Did you never ask yourself why the hell I would need you to wrap shampoo?"

"I– I didn't know." Derek is at a loss of words. Boyd had been right after all. And that is just such a ridiculous thought to have in his current situation, that he can't help it when he cracks up.

"Hey! Are you laughing at me?" Stiles glowers, jabbing an accusing finger at Derek. "Stop laughing, Hale!"

He tries to turn away again, but Derek grabs his wrist again, spinning him back around and using the momentum to push their mouths together.

This is okay, he thinks. Stiles wants this. He wants this.

After a moment he backs away, a goofy grin on his face. Stiles is looking at him, somewhat dumbfounded.

"Your friends may be idiots," Derek explains, "but they were right about this."

"Oh" Stiles breathes, before his face is split in half by a massive grin. "Wow!"

"Yeah," Derek agrees.

"Maybe we should start over." Stiles suggests.

Derek takes a step back.

"Hello, I'm Derek Hale, gift-wrapper at the local supermarket. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

"Hi Derek, pleasure's all mine. Stiles Stilinski, student at the community college and waiter at the local coffee shop. Also son of the guy who owns the local supermarket."

 

* * *

 

Epilogue

Derek is awoken on Christmas by Laura jumping onto his bed and tackling him.

“Come on, Derek!” she reels, bouncing up and down on her knees at the foot end of the bed. She used to do this every year when they were children, waking him up early and infecting him with her contagious excitement.

She's already fully dressed and Derek, consulting the clock on his bedside table, realizes that it's already one in the afternoon. He's kind of surprised Laura actually let him sleep that long.

He gets up, with a lot of grumbling and grousing, admittedly, but at least he gets up. He walks downstairs, closely followed by Laura who all but bounces down the steps and when he walks into the living room he almost think he's stepped into an alternate universe. For one thing there's a Christmas tree standing in the corner, complete with fairy lights and a star on the top, and for another thing the room is _full of people._

Erica is there, an arm slung around Boyd, sitting on the couch and looking for all the world like a picture from a Christmas card instead of real life people. Isaac is slumped against the couch, curled up on the floor in a festive sweater and what looks like matching woolen socks. Derek suddenly feels horribly underdressed in his sweats and pullover.

And there, standing next to the tree, bouncing on his heels, is Stiles. When Derek's eyes land on him he breaks out into a smile, so brilliant it seems to outshine the sparkling lights on the tree. But maybe that's just Derek, because suddenly there seems to be no one else in the room and his vision narrows down to a tunnel as Stiles steps out from behind the couch.

Derek only realizes he's stretched his arms out for a hug when Stiles moves into them, bringing his own arms around Derek's waist and pressing his face into Derek's shoulder. He wraps his arms around Stiles' shoulders and can't do anything but hold on when he feels Stiles press a small kiss to his shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispers into Stiles' ear.

Someone makes a retching sound in the background. Derek doesn't care, because Stiles is _his_ and he's right _here_ and he thinks he might never get used to this thought.

“Hey, wait a moment.” he says, moving away a little but retaining a firm grip on Stiles' shoulders. “Shouldn't you spend Christmas with your father?” he adds, frowning.

“Derek,” Stiles says with fond exasperation in his voice and flicks his nose (Laura will never let him live this down, but again, Derek doesn't care.), “It's 1pm. Some of us woke up at eight in the morning today and my dad's out doing other stuff. He'll join us later.” A sad shadow settles in Stiles' eyes momentarily and Derek presses his forehead against Stiles' as if he can chase the thoughts away by the pure power of proximity.

It seems to work because by the time Laura begs them to _please stop and just come sit down over here,_ he's his usual cheerful self again.

A little while later the doorbell rings and when Derek goes to open it, Laura is busy in the kitchen, serving up a late lunch (or an early dinner), he's greeted by Lydia and a man she introduces as her fiancé, Jackson. She presses a kiss to his cheek and Derek is left baffled because even if he's gotten to know her better in the last month he always thought she kind of disliked him. (“She's just afraid you'll hurt me.” Stiles will tell him later on, “She gets very protective of the people she loves.”)

A little later Scott and Allison come around too, bringing Love Actually with them.

“My mom's working today, too. It's really sad how many people come in drunk and bruised on Christmas every year.” Scott tells Derek and sighs a little, “We just had lunch with Allison's family.” he adds and Stiles joins the conversation, asking Scott how it went. “Man, her dad is scary as fuck. I think he wants to see my head on a platter, without the rest of my body attached to it.” He shivers a bit at that, and Derek can't help it when he laughs, but feels only half bad when he notices Stiles laughing with him.

They all settle down on the couch, and inevitably on the carpet in front of it and at first Laura complains about shitty romantic comedies and being surrounded by couples, but somehow she ends up sitting in between Isaac's legs on the floor, her back against his chest.

Scott's mother, Melissa, and the Sheriff come around for dinner and although Derek knows the man, his boss after all, it's still new, different to meet him as Stiles' father (although the man has shown nothing but kindness towards Derek).

They all eat in the dining room together and as he looks around the table at Laura and Isaac deep in conversation, Erica and Lydia talking in what might as well be Mandarin for all that Derek understands (but he thinks they're talking about chemistry) and Jackson looking like he'd rather be somewhere else, he feels something click into place inside of him. For the first time in a long time he feels content in his own skin. Across from him Boyd and the Sheriff are having a heated discussion about crime TV shows, all the while the Sheriff has one hand on Melissa's, who is sitting next to him and immersed in a conversation with Allison who apparently works as a nurse just like her.

Derek looks at Stiles next to him, who turns around just then to look at him, and there, in the hazel depth of Stiles' eyes Derek finds his center. For the first time since the fire he feels himself settle. He doesn't feel the need to run and hide anymore, as he settles into the conversation Stiles and Scott were having.

It's not weird and it's not strange, even though he's known most of the people in this room for about two months he fits in easily. It's almost like, Derek realizes, almost like _family._

Maybe, Derek thinks, this can be his family from now on. He looks at Stiles who's gesturing animatedly with his fork still in hand and Erica is looking over at him, her head thrown back in laughter and then his eyes find Laura's and he can see the same thing in her eyes as she squeezes Isaac's hand. The same glow of happiness and he feels like he's arrived at the destination of a journey he didn't even know he'd been making and he thinks this could be _home._

_Family, home,_ Derek thinks and the words are not so much losing their bitter taste as a new, sweeter flavor making itself known and Derek thinks of honey and moles and summer days and he thinks yes, he can work with that.

 

Maybe, he thinks at last, when he's lying in bed with Stiles curled up to his site, his head resting on Derek's chest, maybe he doesn't dislike Christmas after all.

No, he thinks, he's got Laura and the rest of this weird, little make-shift family that has built up around him kind of without his notice and he's got Stiles and in that moment he realizes that somewhere along the last month that crush he had turned into something more. And he realizes as Stiles hair tickles his chin and his finger's drag over Derek's ribs lightly, that he's pretty much in love with Stiles. And he also realizes something else.

Derek likes Christmas.


End file.
